


Smaller Worlds

by missema



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Closer to canon, F/M, Kirkwall, Still an AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: In another life, Melissa Hawke and Sebastian Vael love each other deeply. (Kirkwall Tech)In this one, they've just met, but they swear they've met before. Set directly in the game, this collection of meetings, half-dreamt remembrances of another life and stirrings of familiarity come to both of them and draw them closer together.





	1. a meeting, a meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt at making something more canon-compliant for Melissa Hawke and Sebastian Vael. There are going to be differences so I can work with Sebastian's character and their relationship arc a little more.

She knew this man, but Melissa Hawke had never seen him before in her life.

They all stood quietly, watching as he argued with the Grand Cleric, ending it with the impressive shot that took the missive from her hand and secured it to the Chanter's Board. Whether Elthina agreed with it or not, it was staying. At least it would have if Melissa hadn't decided after watch him walk away that she had to see what was on it. The words "murder" and "family" had come up loud enough for the whole square to hear. 

When she'd taken the job for the Chanter's Board, and then finished it, she went back to the Chantry to find the man. The man she now knew was Prince Sebastian Vael, who wanted the mercenaries that killed his family dead so they wouldn't come after him. She understood that, but knew mercenaries were just swords, and whoever staged a coup wouldn't truly be stopped by her; she was simply the parry to their thrust.

"Hello, I," she started to speak to him in the Chantry, but she stopped short as he turned to her. The feeling in her gut the one that never lied to her was saying that she knew him. He was more than familiar to her, it was like he was someone she'd known well and had somehow had forgotten.

"Yes?" he prompted, but then he stopped short as well. The curious look he gave her didn't subside as she drew closer to him, and in a moment she was standing far too close to this man, this familiar stranger she'd never quite met before.

"I know you," Melissa said, and he didn't pull her closer but he stepped the distance between them and he might as well have been holding her.

"As I do you, my lady, but I regret, I cannot recall," he said shaking his head as if he were trying to clear it.

Then she touched him, just a light touch of their hands, both covered in leather armor, though his had that enameled plating that caught every bit of light. When their hands brushed, he took hers in his and held it there. She did know him, but the remembering was faint, like a fragment of melody hear on the street below the window where it was being played. As sure as she was that she'd met him before, she knew too that she'd loved him.

"I, um, I wanted to tell you that I killed the mercenaries," she said softly, suddenly shy.

"My post the Chanter's Board?" he asked, and she nodded. "I should reward you," he started, but she didn't release his hand.

"Have you ever been to Ferelden?" Melissa asked hopefully, but he shook her his head at her. She tried again, "The Hanged Man then?"

This time he laughed, and she couldn't help but join into the sound of it. When she invited him to come to that same tavern and explain exactly what she'd earned the coin doing, he accepted without once letting go of her hand.


	2. leaving and staying

He meant to leave. Now that he knew he was safe from the mercenaries, Sebastian meant to quit Kirkwall and see what ground he could gain in Starkhaven. Instead, he accepted the Viscount's invitation to a party, socializing with people he'd eschewed while he was in the Chantry. Attempting to reconnect those bonds was a vital part in him being able to go back to Starkhaven, so he saw the wisdom in it. It could have been a bit of strategic planning on his part, if he weren't hanging around Kirkwall solely because of Hawke.

Hawke, whom he had a difficult time just calling Hawke as everyone did, because he wanted to call her by her first name. She hadn't given him leave to do so, he just thought of her as Melissa instead of Hawke. That alone confused him, but it was more than that. There were things he just knew about her that he shouldn't know about a woman he'd never laid eyes on before she entered the Chantry that day.

It was two weeks ago to the day since she'd come into the Chantry and he'd gone with her to the Hanged Man. He walked her home that night, to the cramped hovel in Lowtown she shared with the rest of her whole family, and kissed her hand when they'd parted. All the way back to Hightown, he felt like he should go back and get her, take her home with him, but his home was the Chantry and that was absolutely not appropriate.

Especially since he'd just met her, no matter how well he felt he knew her.

Sebastian had decided to bring her to this dinner that the Viscount invited him to, because he could bring a guest and she was technically nobility. He found that out after the first night, her mother was the rightful Lady Amell, though her title was under dispute. A little like his own, and he had sympathy for her plight.

She met him at the door, because it would have been a longer trip for him to go to Lowtown and then back to Hightown, though he'd offered. While he was waiting, wearing the only formal clothes he had outside of the robes of brother, ones he'd just purchased for the occasion, he saw her come up. When he'd asked her to go, she'd consulted both the pirate Isabela and her mother before accepting to make sure she had something suitable to wear.

Did she ever.

Her dress was modest in color, there was nothing bold about the creamy white of it, but dramatic in cut. Sebastian didn't know quite how to explain it, he was never one for fashion terminology, but in that moment he wished he was. He wanted to give words to what he was seeing, to know how to properly admire the cut and craft of it, how it molded perfectly to her body. Sebastian felt his heart do a flip-flop inside of his chest as she spied him and graced him with a shy smile.

The long dark fall of her hair was pulled into a dramatic high ponytail that accented her makeup. When she reached him she stopped and grinned at him. 

"You look really nice," she said softly, holding out her hand to him. 

"You do too. More than nice," he said. What happened to him, he used to be good at this. Belatedly, Sebastian took her hand and kissed it in greeting, earning another shy grin from Hawke. "Beautiful, my lady," he said, recovering from his lapse.

"Are you nervous?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"I've done this so many times before I could do it in my sleep. I just thought this part of my life was over."

"Something my mother told me is that this," she waved a hand around, indicating the whole of the party, "is never over for nobility, no matter how you try to absent yourself from it."

"The Lady Amell is wise," he said, smiling. He didn't feel like smiling at that sentiment to be truthful, but standing here in line, waiting with her hand in his took over his good sense. Sebastian couldn't help but smile.

"She will absolutely love that you think so," Hawke told him. She squeezed his hand as their invitation was accepted and they were let into the party. She took an audible breath in and squared her shoulders.

"Easy there. We'll be fine," he soothed, and realized he was speaking the truth. With her at his side, he was sure they'd be fine.


	3. Apart

She wouldn't expect a Chantry Brother to stay with her, no matter how many vows he'd forsaken. Hawke experienced some mild apprehension upon learning that Sebastian was going to go back to Starkhaven, but she couldn't stop him. They weren't a couple, despite attending several social gatherings together. Part of her foolish heart wished that they could be a couple, but her mind was logical and she knew there would be nothing between them except friendship.

He belonged to the Chantry, if not in vow, then in his heart. Hawke had to keep reminding herself of that. She didn’t dare to let herself hope otherwise, though she couldn’t control the occasional thought about what he’d be like without the Chantry to slip through. Without it now, not without the influence it had to change his life, she had to stipulate, even in her own thoughts, because Hawke doubted he could have been the man she wanted without it, and yet it was a yoke to him now, preventing Sebastian from being fully hers.

No, see, those were the thoughts she could do without. Perhaps this time apart was a good thing. She was reminding herself of that as she thought of him one night in Lowtown, while she did the dishes for her mother. Gamlen was nowhere to be found, but Bethany was in the next room with a cold and her Mother was busy with the laundry in the next room. She was getting the water tub and clothes line ready, that was Melissa’s next job for the night so her mother could get some rest. Truth be told, Melissa could use some too, but tomorrow she had a full day planned with Varric and some promising odd jobs, so she had to do all the chores tonight.

A knock at the door had her drying her hands on her apron, and when she opened it to reveal Sebastian, she thought she’d fallen asleep on her feet.

“Can I come in, Hawke?” he asked, voice low.

“Yes, of course. I’m surprised to see you in Lowtown,” she commented, wishing she had something smarter to say as she stepped aside and let him in.

“I hope I’m not unwelcome, I’ve only come here a few times before, but I wanted to see you before I left for Starkhaven. I leave early tomorrow morning, so I came to say goodbye tonight.”

She looked up at him in his gleaming white armor, and saw a fierceness in his eyes that she didn’t recognize. He hadn’t told her what he intended for his time in Starkhaven, only that his plans to raise an army by asking the nobles of Kirkwall to raise a levy in his name had failed. She had been both sad and relieved to hear that he wouldn’t be heading an army back to Starkhaven anytime soon, but this visit left her with some disquiet.

“You will take care, won’t you?” she asked, and held out her soapy hand to him. After glancing down at it, she dried it again, hastily wiping it on her apron while he chuckled. When she finished, he took her hand and placed a kiss to the back of it, bowing over it like a courtier.

“Since you’ve asked so nicely, I will,” he replied, making her smile despite her worry. _He doesn’t belong to you, he doesn’t belong to you_. He didn’t release her hand, holding it in both of hers as he looked at her. His eyes were as beautiful as ever, but so troubled she had to give voice to the question that weighed most heavily on her mind.

“Sebastian, why now?” Melissa asked, but never got to hear the reply because her mother came in from the other room.

“Oh, I thought I heard voices. It’s good to see you again, Prince Vael,” Leandra said, giving Sebastian a tired smile.

“Please call me Sebastian, Lady Amell. I’ve just come to say goodbye to Lady Melissa. I leave for Starkhaven on the morrow, and didn’t want to go without a proper goodbye.”

“I hope your visit goes well, Sebastian,” Leandra said, and gave Melissa a pointed look before excusing herself.

Melissa knew how her mother felt about Sebastian, quite apart from the fact that he was a prince, her adoration of him was obvious. He’d charmed Leandra within a minute of walking through the door, and his help in trying to reclaim the Amell estate had proved invaluable in some of Leandra’s meetings. Sebastian had been here for years, and knew the temperaments and character of many of the people Leandra had to meet before the Viscount, including the seneschal. For the insight he’d given freely in one conversation, Leandra had become his biggest fan, well, except for Melissa.

Neither of them said anything until Leandra was gone from the room, but Melissa was sure her mother was still listening. Belatedly, she realized they were still holding hands, both of his covering one of hers, and when she made to pull her hand away, he held it steady.

“What would you do in my shoes? I’ve already used you once to solve my problems, and I cannot put you in danger for my wishes again. Had I known you then as I do now, I might not have put that job on the Chanter’s Board. I must go and at least take a measure of the climate, see what the feeling is and how my cousin rules before I can make any decision on how to proceed.”

“That’s not what I’d do if I were in your shoes. If I were in your shoes, I’d kiss me right now, for good luck,” Melissa said, and watched Sebastian both blush and smile at the suggestion. She thought he might release her hand then, tell her about his vows or fill in the reasons why he hadn’t already kissed her. Maker knows he had plenty of opportunity, but he’d always politely demurred at the end of a night, and Melissa didn’t push.

For one breathless second she thought he might kiss her, but he opted to release her hand, threading his fingers through hers and unlacing them deliberately, then pressing a kiss to the inside of her palm. That wasn’t what she was hoping for, but the sweetness of it made heat flower in her chest. He placed her hand over his heart, though she couldn’t feel it through the enamel of his armor.

“I’ll come back and make good on that thought one of these days, when I have more to offer you than clandestine kisses and lofty promises, Hawke. You deserve more than that, more than, whatever I am right now.”

Before she could protest that statement, he bowed to her and was gone, striding out of her apartment purposefully as he headed back to Hightown. He left her feeling like he’d stolen all of the air from her lungs and it took her more than a minute to shake herself back to work. The dishwater was cold when she put her hands back into it and the soap cake was nearly gone, and Hawke tried to pretend the drops eddying the surface of the water were ripples from her hands and not the tears that fell unchecked down her face.


End file.
